I am less than a week away from two glorious weeks of vacation. And of course, we are in the midst of a horrendous heat wave in the part of the world where I live. So instead of bustling about, I’m sitting in front of a fan, praying for the weather to break.

I’ve got most of the big things in place to be away. I have the bulletins finished, just need to pick up one set from the printer. I have the readings selected and ready to go for the weeks I’m away. I have pastoral calls prepared for this week.

What I’ve not done yet is prepare my clothes, plan the itinerary and start packing. All of these things are fun but I need to get other things done first, including cleaning my house. Ugh. If only the weather would cooperate, so I could get up and do something without dissolving into a puddle, that would be awesome. C’mon Mother Nature, help me out here.

I am looking forward to two weeks of travel, leisure, yoga, stretching, fabulous food and drink, sleep and nature…not necessarily in that order. I have a new journal that I’m taking with me. I’ve not yet started writing in it, and I’m not sure why. But I’ll get there.

So, for the next couple of weeks, blog posts will be non-existent, but I promise to share all kinds of loveliness when I get back.

Can’t wait to get off the treadmill of “busy” for awhile. To redirect my rhythm and finally start to feel better. I am excited to feel better, for what will feel like the first time in a long time. But I can do it. I know I can. I have to.

The past few weeks have been horrible. I’ve felt pulled in too many directions, unable to speak of my exhaustion and find the word “no”. It’s all come crashing down, with overwhelming fatigue, loss of joy and the inability to find joy in anything.

Recognizing that something was wrong, I started examining my life. My diet has been horrible as of late. I’ve not been drinking as much water as I should. I’ve not been doing yoga. I’ve not even been breathing properly…it’s only recently that I’ve learned there’s a right and wrong way to breathe. I’ve been filling myself with artificial sweeteners, processed convenience food and empty calories. And it needs to stop.

I’ve stopped expressing myself, writing in a journal.

I’ve stopped doing things for me.

I’ve stopped living…and now it’s time to start again.

I’ve found a lovely water bottle that is fun, funky and functional. I carry it with me most all of the time and I drink 8 cups of water a day.

I’m going to buy a new journal and write in it, most every day.

I’m going to slow down and prioritize and put myself back on the damn list…towards the top.

I’m going to spend time every day outside, whether walking, breathing or simply being.

I’m not even sure if that is a word…but it is now. It’s been ages since I last posted and that’s for a variety of reasons. Since Easter I’ve had a funeral, a wedding, have met with two couples who are getting married. Spent time in hospital at bedsides, attended meetings, and contracted a devastating 48 hour ‘flu. Aside from that there’s been not much happening.

This Spring I’ve been overtaken with the need to de-clutter. I’ve been consumed with the need for open space, for clean shelves, uncluttered tabletops. In short, everything in it’s place and a place for every thing. I decided two summers ago to empty the room that was, at one time, my home office. It became a storage wasteland for all the things that entered the house but didn’t have anywhere to go…so they ended up in that room.

That room is now empty of my stuff. There’s a growing pile of garbage at the sidewalk in front of the house because this week is the community garbage collection. There’s broken clothes racks, broken glass, broken chairs…just about everything but broken hearts…

And while there’s been a great deal of space opening in the house, there’s still boxes of things that need to be sorted through…books to be returned to friends or put in the box for the Church Yard sale. There’s more stuff than space, even though there’s a whole empty room. Thus, the discombobulation.

In the course of a couple of extremely busy weeks, I reached for Coke Zero, my go-to caffeine kick at Seminary…and in short order I was guzzling a horrifying about each and every day. I’ve also been eating a great deal of food that is little better than garbage and not drinking nearly enough water.

So last week I decided that I needed to get my unhealthy self back to healthy..

I purchased a Fitbit that tracks my sleep patterns, steps, stairs, water intake, calories in and out. So far I”m using it to track steps, stairs, sleep and water…will work up to the caloric thing eventually. I know I feel better when I drink water. I can motivate myself to drink enough with Fitbit. I”m not competing with anyone or anything but myself…even though that is an option. I need to spend less time in my head and more time outside, moving my fat ass around.

And while I am learning to love myself, I am in need of health and that will come by caring for as well as loving myself. It’s not about losing weight, although that is something I want to do. It’s not about scoring points on a chart. It’s about doing all these little things that will help me to feel better, look better and be better.

If I don’t lose one pound, that will be okay, because I know with more water, more movement, less stress and better eating, I will be healthier. And my body will thank me for that.

So while the de-cluttering of the house continues, the cleansing of the body begins. As the garbage goes out and the treasures go to the Yard Sale, I will still and quiet my mind.

I believe it will be then that my discombobulation will begin to lift and I will feel more like myself.

Oh, how I have missed myself…and as soon as I find where I tucked my yoga mat away, that will be another goal realised.

Time to get up and get moving, the administration will wait until later.

It is true that I am my own worst critic. I don’t hold anyone to the same standards I hold myself. The last few days have been unbelievably difficult, and I’m not really sure why. I am scheduled to undergo laparoscopic cholecystectomy surgery (gallbladder) on the 23rd of January. We have our annual Vestry meeting on the 25th. I have no idea what kind of reaction I will have to the surgery, so I am attempting to get as many things done, ahead of time, as I can.

This includes putting together the Vestry book. Organizing baptism meetings, pre-marriage counselling, pre-surgical appointments, pastoral visits and bulletins. Oh, and there’s writing homilies. Right now the pile of things I need to do feels overwhelming. Between that list and the housework, child-care, spousal support, I am having difficulty seeing daylight. And my motivation has dissipated…in other words, my get-up-and-go has got-up-and-gone.

I am beginning to think that my work/life balance is off-balance again. I haven’t even sat on my yoga mat in weeks. I am not drinking water like I was doing. I’m not eating properly. In short, I’m not caring for myself. And that’s wrong.

Tomorrow I am meeting a friend for coffee. I haven’t seen him in years. This week was his birthday so we are meeting for a birthday-week hot drink. I’m excited to see him as he always fills my day with light. I have a list of errands I’ve been putting off all week, mostly due to weather. So after I see him, I will get my list of things done. And in the afternoon I will set a list of priorities, and put them in proper order.

Lists and organization soothes me. I cannot work in chaos. So I plan, prepare, clean, file, dust, organise, and while I do this I breathe. I’ve not been breathing properly for awhile. All shallow breathing. It’s affecting my sleep patterns and my mental health.

And I have decided that instead of wishing my life away, starting tomorrow, a fresh new day, I am going to put myself higher on my priority list. Do what is right for me, instead of giving myself what is left.

And while that will mean a trip to the grocery store, which is always an emotional land-mine, I have a list and a plan. So I’m ahead of the curve already.

I’ve had a rough couple of weeks…sleeping poorly, eating badly, not getting enough exercise. This past week I’ve been weepy, and that’s not me. I don’t like losing control of my emotions, especially in front of people. This morning my beloved and I had an appointment with our marriage counsellor. She asked how things were going and I burst into tears. Never a good sign.

We chatted for a while about stress levels, fatigue levels, etc. She asked my beloved a lot of questions, and he expressed concern. My plate is always full, lately its been overflowing and I know I need to take some things off it, especially things that are not life-giving.

After quite a bit of conversation she expressed to me that I most likely I have adrenal fatigue. I came home and looked up the symptoms. Every. Single. One. Of. Them. Talk about a Holy Sh!t moment.

I looked at what can be done for adrenal fatigue I was not surprised that there’s no easy fix. Its going to take about a year to heal myself. It means cleaning out my cupboard, clean up the foods I eat. Add a couple of supplements to my storehouse. And set down some things that are not healthy.

I decided to resign from a Diocesan committee that I have been a part of for six years. The past couple of years I have not felt like I am contributing much. So I decided to step down. Once I am well I may decide to return to the committee, but I may not.